


Don't Get Too Close

by DemiLune13



Series: Don't Get Too Close [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Bullying, Cutting, Dark, Depression, Drama, Drugs, Eating Disorders, Hurt Niall, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, M/M, Mutilation, Niall-centric, Past Abuse, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Translation, Zayn-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-01-08 16:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12258129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemiLune13/pseuds/DemiLune13
Summary: Call them as you like. Preferances. Failures. Weaknesses. Problems. Addictions. Anomalies. Vices. No matter their name. No matter who they really are. No matter how they live. What does matter is that we all know them. Every person has their own dark side. More or less important. More or less self-destructive. As kind and charming you are, there's always a moment when you wonder if the world wouldn't be better without you. A single question which can lead to actions much less insignificant. Some get lost in their life, some are not able to handle this shadow lurking in them. And it progresses, slowly crawling under the skin like vermin.You call them madmen, lunatics, weirdos, nutcases, unstable and freaky people.I call them victims, lame people, survivors, fighters.Or in which Niall and Zayn are both a little broken, but somehow fall in love anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Don't Get too Close](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/335529) by Don't Get to Close. 



> Hiya :) My name is Morgane, and I'm a French Student! I ususally write French stories, but I decided to publish this one in English. /!\ This is a translation from a fiction I read years ago on Skyrock. Here is the link for the French fans who prefer read it in French : http://dont-get-too-close.skyrock.com/  
> This fiction is really important to me. It is about Ziall ;) and I'll publish it every week (or two weeks, if I'm in period of examination).  
> Oh, and as English is not my native language, I'm still learning, and I'm looking for a beta if one of you is interesting :) And if you see any mistakes, or something that sounds weird, feel free to tell me :)  
> Lots of love xx

_"Don't get too close_  
_It's dark inside_  
_It's where my demons hide"_

[Imagine Dragons](https://youtu.be/GFQYaoiIFh8)

 Niall Horan was looking closely at his coffee cup heating up in the microwave. He liked it scalding hot, so every morning, he put his coffee in the microwave for two minutes.  
Have you ever wondered what two minutes represented in a life ? Probably nothing. But what if you multiply it by seven ? By thirty ? Or by three hundred sixty-five ? Niall had already thought about it. He could accurately say that he spent thirteen hours a year waiting for his coffee to get made. He was mesmerized by this idea. Every little gesture matter for the final result.

Niall took his steaming coffee out and sat on the window ledge of his apartment, a cigarette in the other hand. His right leg was folded under his bum and the other was dangling. He set down his mug on the windowsill and took a puff at his cigarette. He was unfazed. It was his routine. Every morning, this same routine, a bit unhealthy, forewarning the day. He was looking at the ground, dozens of meters below, thinking that it would be so easy to topple into the void. So easy to fall. So easy to end it all. It was also so tempting.

Niall took a last deep drag of his cigarette, his eyes narrowed in pleasure, his head thrown back. Then, he ruthlessly stubbed out the butt on the tender flesh of his ankle before flicking it down the street. His eyes fell on his pale skin, and he felt desperate and frustrated as he realized he couldn't feel a damn thing. Alongside his new burn, a dozen round marks appeared on his skin, forming singular arabesques. Pretty little flesh-colourd bubbles. It was his art, his way of expressing himself.

Niall nimbly jumped off his windowsill and was seized by dizziness because of the sudden movement. But he shrugged it off. As always. He walked past the fridge without opening it and settled down at his bar. He turned on his computer and set to work. Around noon, he smoked another cigarette, drank another coffee, ate an apple that was lying around on the countertop, then went back to his lessons. His stomack was growling of discontent, claiming food Niall refused to swallow.

At the end of the day, Niall was having shooting pains in his empty stomach. Feeling drained of energy, he collasped on his bed and stared at the ceiling, hands on his stomach. In a way, he liked feeling his sore stomach.It was soothing, almost enjoyable. It meant that he had achieved his goal again. Yes, he had managed to stay alive. One more day.

They were his vices : the boiling hot coffee, the cigarette and the pain.

**-X-**

  
 Tens kilometers away, another young man opened his eyes with difficulty. There was a pounding pain in his temples. He felt like he was in a fog, and not because he had just woken up. No. Zayn Malik always felt like he was in a fog. An imaginary world mixing up with reality, a state of limbo created by the small pills he took almost everyday.

He clumsily felt around his mattress and found a warm naked body lying next to him. He sighed contentedly. He liked waking up beside the people he had manhandled during the night. He knew that it was one of his vices. An insight of the absence of love he had been suffering all his life. He had always been rejected as a child. He had been bouncing around from a house to another, from a hell to another. No one ever tucked him in before, or told him a story, or add another blanket on his small cold and shaking body. No one. He had always been alone, in the dark, ready to face the coldness of the others.

Now, his bed was always warm, and he didn't wake up alone anymore. It didn't matter who he was with, woman, man, old, young, pervert, prudish, as long as they kept the bed comfy and welcoming.

The blur surrounding him was slowly disappearing. He snorted. He didn't like it. Life appeared duller, boring and insignificant without this delicious fog. He groped for his nightstand and felt his fingers brush against a small blue pill. Or maybe was it green. He didn't take the time to examine it and swallowed it dry. In about half an hour, everything would be fine. In about half an hour, he would be as high as a kite. He would feel strong, invincible. And then, he would wake up the person beside him. He would take advantage of her a last time before telling her to get out remorseless. Because Zayn Malik liked sharing his bed. But he wouldn't let anyone sharing his life.

He closed his eyes and held back a moan of contentment.

A cosy bed, sex and his small pills, these were his pleasures.

**-X-**

They were like two grenades without pin, thrown into a bottomless pit. Two time bombs patiently waiting the impact, ready to explode at any point. They didn't know at the moment that they were destined for colliding with each other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeyy, as I promised, here is the next chapter of my very new fiction ''Don't Get Too Close'' :) I really hope you'll like it xx

We can be heroes just for one day.

[Heroes](https://youtu.be/zwv6FhPjZvs) \- **Glee version**

 

 Zayn considered that the worst moments of his life what the ones when he was lucid. Unfortunately, the housekeeper of his building chose one of those moments to tell him that his lease was terminated. Now he was forced to take his goods and clear off without complaining before the end of the month. Zayn didn't even waste time on politeness with the old man. He slammed the door in his housekeeper's face, knowing he didn't have any choice. His muscles violently tensed up. He felt hot, pulsing anger grip at his veins. He hated this society. He hated his landlord. He hated this fucking old man. He should have pushed him down the fucking stairs when he had the chance. It was too much.

He didn't have drugs anymore, he had lost his place. He didn't have anyone. He was alone. Desperately alone. He needed to confide in someone. Anyone. He needed someone to listen to him. He needed to cry his rage out till his vocal cords tear and his lungs bleed.

He tore off a paper from a notebook lying around and grapped a black pen. And he began to write his overflow of emotions. He wrote down everyting that crossed his mind on this dog-eared scrap of paper. No stylistic devices. No formal language. No enclosing rhyme. Only sharp, violent words. Rights words.

When his letter was finished, he took an envelope and slipped it inside. He randomly open the directory, chose a name and write the address of the stranger on the envelope. Once satisfied, he stuffed the letter in the pocket of his leather jacket and walked out. The whole thing had pissed him off, and he really needed to find someone to fuck.

A few days later, Niall Horan received a letter from a certain Zayn Malik.

The blonde stared at the letter in surprise. He usually never received anything, except invoices and printed cards his grandmother sent him once a year. He sat on his sofa and slowly opened the envelope, almost religiously. He took out a piece of paper and unfold it, revealing a sloppy writing, words written angrily. And he started reading this letter which would changed his life. A simple letter. Simple words

_"Have you ever felt like the world was turning against you to remind you you were nothing ? I do, all the time. And it makes me feel so angry, it fucks me up, it irritates me, it kills me inside. I just want to shout that I exist. That I'm not another fucking link in the huge and endless chain. I want them to understand how it is hard to be, to exist. I'm fed up with these people who turn their back on you because you don't say what they want to hear. They lock themselves into peace and comfort, in values they promote without trying to carry them out. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be easier to be like them. You know, having a woman, kids, a house, a hypocritical smile plastered on the face all day. Pretending everything is okay. Everything is fine. I'm sure that if you deny that enough times, you eventually believe it. Then I remember who I am. And I laugh at being such a screw-up. I'm not socially acceptable. And I wouldn't change for anything in the world. This darkness is mine, wholly. I lost faith in humanity so much that it hurt. I exist. I frequently repeat it to myself. I exist. A litany to reassure myself. Sometimes, I lost myself. Sex and ectasy, that's what eases me and what drags me down at the same time. In those moments, I feel good. Alive. Then I remember it's only an illusion. That my happiness is only an illusion. This truth crawls under my skin and ends up in my lungs. It burns me and causes me to suffocate. It asphyxiated me. I come to doubt my own existence. So I swallow another pill, to feel alive. Fucking vicious circle._

_My landlord kicked me out this morning. I dont know what I'm going to do. I can't afford to have something better. I don't have the strength to look for a place anyway. I know what people think when they see me. A terrorist. A dangerous guy. I'm afraid to end up like this. And I'm thinking of you, who is reading that, if you didn't drop it earlier. You, who know much more about me than all these people who ever mixed with me. I smirk as I imagine you as a doctor, a father, outraged by my bad manners. You'll hurry to show this letter to you fourteen-year-old son who's becoming stubborn. ''You'll end up like this if you continue.''. Or you could be a little old lady, who would tell all the neighbourhood my life story because, honestly, it is the most thrilling thing that would happen to you in years. You could be anybody, but whoever you are, I know where this letter will end up. Crumpled, rolled into a ball, thrown away in a rubbish bin. Because humans have already enough to do with their own lives to be able to bear the burden of the others'._

_\- Zayn"_

Niall heavily flopped back down in the sofa, staring at the piece of paper he was holding with trembling hands. He felt like he was the possessor of a dark secret. An enormous secret too heavy for his frail shoulders.

What would happen if you decided to put an anvil on the shoulder of a tightrope walker ? Because that was exactly how Niall was feeling. He was far from being the most stable person in the world and he knew it. He couldn't afford to save the others. But he thought back to these words : « _I know where this letter will end up. Crumpled, rolled into a ball, thrown away in a rubbish bin_ ». And he refused to be this kind of person. He was a witness to the pain of another humain being. He had a piece of life of this boy in his hands. He couldn't ignore it. It was not only a letter. It was a distress call. You don't send a letter to a stranger without reason.

Niall had been through this too before losing hope. And at the time, he was in a great need of a friend. Someone who would have offered a helping hand to him, who would have reassured him. But unfortunately, on the discussion group where he had written his problems, he had only received mocking remarks, words filled with sarcasm, or subtle advices like « _Hang yourself_ ». He would never behave like this. So he did the thing the most insane, the most impulsive and certainly the most important of his life. He wrote an answer to this young man with only a few words.

_"I think that a distress call should never remain unanswered. My door is open to you._

_\- Niall"_

He couldn't help smiling as he mailed his letter. He did the good choice. He was sure of it.

During the three days that went by, Niall went out to pick his mails every morning, hoping to find a new letter from the called Zayn. But he always found an empty mailbox and always walked back home disappointed. Until the day a letter was finally sent to him. He opened the envelope, expecting to thank-you, more secrets maybe a hint of bond. But as he read the content of the letter, his smile vanished. Only a few words were written on the white paper :

_"I don't need a hero._

_\- Zayn"_

So that was it ? The great adventure he was hoping ended now ? An overwhelming feeling of solitude washed over Niall. He felt ashamed for having thrown himself into this story wholeheartedly. Deep down inside, he had hoped to become a hero. He had hoped he wouldn't be the one who was hurt, for once. But he tended to forgot that not everybody was as weak as he was. This Zayn was probably able to get through his problems without any help. He sneered at his own stupidity. He was so pathetic. So stupid. So idiot. Tears stung in his eyes. He gritted his teeth and felt even more digusted of himself for working himself up into such a state. What was wrong with him ? Why was he so weird ? His left hand gripped his right wrist and tightened in a harsh bruising grip, his nails digging into his pale skin. He squeezed with all his strength until the pain was sharp enough to silence the demons which were eating out his insides. Tomorrow, a big dark bruise would etch his wrist. But nobody would be there to see it, so he squeezed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo how did find this chapter ? :)  
> Again, if a kind person is available to correct my mistakes, it would be great :3  
> I'm posting the next chapter today :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one need a little more correction, I'm not sure, but if any of you notice any horrible mistake, feel free to tell me ;)

_I don't need your tears_  
_I don't want your love_  
_I just gotta get home._  
[Bigger Than Us](https://youtu.be/HDR1dtncoAA) \- **White Lies**

 

 The routine resettled. Niall fell into his morbid monotony again.

A coffee. A cigarette. A burn. Then he swotted up on his lessons all the day, and when he was finished, he read or watched the tv. But most of the time, he stayed on his bed, inert, staring at the ceiling as he wondered if one day someone would care about him. If this hell would end. In his dreams, he lived in a fictional world and built another future. And unlike Zayn, he didn't need any pills to go inside this world. His brain was so tired of living it didn't need any substance to shut up.

Niall was feeling weaker and weaker, more and more distant as the days passed. And he thought that, maybe this time would be the right one. Thay maybe the voices screaming the insignificance of his existence in his head would shut up for good.

-X-

 

It was 3:51am when there was a harsh knock at the door, and the sound reverberated in all the apartment. Niall cursed under his breath as he turned on his stomach and buried his face into his pillow. Whoever it was, they could go fuck themself. Yes, Niall was being churly when someone dared to rouse him from sleep. He was getting a bit droopy, when there was another brutal knock at the door. The blonde cursed once, twice, before violently throw his blanket away. He put an oversized grey sweater on and his his pyjama bottoms. Then he ventured in the hallway and wrench the door open.

He was expecting to come face to face with a group of brats or with a guy too drunk to remember where he lived, but instead, he found himself facing a young man with raven hair, olive skin and a swollen face, and carrying a worn backpack.

Niall quietly stared at the stranger as he rubbed his eyes like a three-year-old child, waiting for the man to explain why he had waken him up at 4 in the morning

Still drowsy, The blonde didn't notice the surprised look the stranger gave him. The latter didn't expect to see a boy so young and regretted for a second to burst into his life. But he didn't have any other choices...

''I'm Zayn''

Zayn. This name hit Niall hard. He took two steps back at the impact of the news, more lucid than ever. By a stupid reflex, he ran his fingers through his hair to make himself presentable. Then, after a long minute of silence, he stepped aside to let Zayn in.

Zayn looked out of place in Niall's apartment, with his dirty clothes, his shabby bag and his bloody handsome face. He was standing erect in the middle of the apricot-coloured living room, waiting for his host to prove him he was not mute.

Thousands questions were piling up in Niall's head. How old was he ? Why had he changed mind ? Had he drugs on him ? Would he stay long ? Did he like coffee for breakfast ?

He stared at Zayn, who felt surprisingly embarrassed and who was biting his lip nervously.

''I was sleeping outside, but some fucking racists beat me up so...''

Zayn didn't need to say any more. Niall understood.

In spite of his vulnerable and angelic appearance, the blonde who was facing Zayn looked run-down. Tired. Exhausted. Full of rage. Empty of happiness.

''You don't have to explain yourself,'', he said simply.

He nodded his head, inviting the brunette to follow him toward the bathroom. The blonde rummaged through a cupboard and grabbed a small first-aid kit to treat his new housemate.

Zayn cringed slightly as Niall got closer. He was used to be touched by the others, yes. But not in this way.

Not so carefully. He hadn't been taken care of like this for years. He suddenly felt like he was five years old. And even at that time, he was not sure that somebody was there to treat his injuries.

He let Niall gently swab his lip, his cheekbone and his eyebrow arch. The blonde was so focused on the task that Zayn took this opportunity to study him.

Maybe he wasn't that young. Maybe he looked so boyish because of his messy hair and his big baby blue eyes. Zayn's gaze stopped Niall's collar bone, subtly exposed by the loose sweater. On the pale skin, Zayn could see dozens strange small horizontal marks. Scars. Zayn frowned. What kind of accident could cause this kind of scars ? None. Could it be Niall who hurt himself ? Plausible.

Almost inadvertently, Zayn's golden brown eyes slipped over Niall's forearm, hidden under the jumper. The brunette was suddenly quite convinced that he would find other scars on this place too. He was now the possessor of Niall's darker secret. There were now on an equal footing.

Niall showed Zayn where were the towels, where was the spare room. He lent him some clean clothes, asked him many times if he needed anything else. Until an exhausted Zayn gently told him that, as sweet and adorable he was, he just wanted to sleep and forget his fucking life for a few hours.

So Niall returned in his bedroom and curled up in his bed, listening to the sound of running water from the bathroom. He couldn't cracking a smile. For once, someone had thought about him. And it was incredibly good feeling real for someone else than his mother. The blond fell asleep again, feeling for the first time eager to wake up the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading !! xx I'll post the next chapter next week :) Have a good day <3


	4. Chapter 4

[Isolated System](https://youtu.be/syVw28HML60) \- Muse

 

When Zayn opened his eyes, he felt a bit lost. And yet he had woken up so many times in strangers' bed that he shouldn't have disturbed him. It took him a moment to remember that he had dared to come at Niall's. His assailants had got the better of his rebel behaviour, and he had put his pride aside.

He got up, trying to remember where was the kitchen. He found Niall in the kitchen, perched on the windowsill, smoking and sipping a cup of coffee. Zayn cleared his throat to anounce his presence, but Niall barely gave him a look.

''There is some extra coffee in the coffee maker.''

Okay. This kid visibly wasn't a morning person. Zayn helped himself a cup of coffee, thinking he hadn't seen a filter coffee maker for ages. He probably wouldn't be able to use it. His mug sitting in front of him, he looked for something to eat, brioche, bread, or even melba toast. He was starving, so he would eat anything. He opened his mouth but closed it when he realized that Niall was staring into thin air absentmindly. Zayn and stood up and opened a cupboard. Empty. He opened the next one and found it empty as well. Disconcerted, he opened the fridge in which there were only a plain yoghurt and an apple. Zayn wondered which one would expire first. Really ? Did this guy only need coffee to survive ? He grabbed the apple and bit into it. Then, he took a sip of his coffee, but he immediately wished he didn't taste it. This coffee was awfully boiling hot and just disgusting. Niall had obviously lost his taste buds if he could drink such a shit. Zayn opened his mouth to speak, but something stopped him.

Did Niall really stubbed out his burning cigarette on the skin of his ankle ?

The blond jumped to the ground as if nothing had happened.

''Sorry, there's not much to eat,'' he said quietly.

' _No kidding !_ ' Zayn thought.

''We could do a food shop together. I don't know what you like."

''You agree to let me stay ?'' Zayn asked suspiciously.

''I do.''

''I take drugs.''

''I know.''

''I fuck too. A lot.''

''Not my problem.''

''Where is the trap ?''

''There isn't any.''

''What are the rules ?''

''Respect me.''

Zayn was surprised by the way Niall said it, as if the blond was asking for a favor. Whereas it was obvious that Zayn would respect him. Even though he was a loner, he wasn't a disrespectful jerk. Zayn knew deep down he was a good person, but he had been hurt too many times to show his real self. He nodded and gave a grateful smile to his savior. They had made a deal. Silent. Indestructible.

But Zayn quickly realized that Niall, underneath his cheerfulness, was hiding his own dark side too. A dark side which seized him like an imprinted veil. A dark side ingrained in him. Zayn realized that Niall was empty. Really empty. It was as if something was off within him. The blond boy with transcendant baby blue eyes was just a hollow and shattered shell. And it scared Zayn. Because for the first time, he could see true distress on a face.

-X-

The apartment share between the two young men turned out to be easier than expected. Zayn had feared that Niall would try to change him and make him stop the drugs.

But the blond never tried to change anything, and never reproached him for anything. As for Niall, he had worried about Zayn's bad boy temperament. He wouldn't have borne to live with a mean and selfish person. Because, knowing himself, he wouldn't have stood for himself and would have shut up. But Zayn was nothing like that. Quite the contrary, the brunet was polite and kind-hearted.

Both of them felt an undisguised pleasure not to be alone anymore.

They were two opposites. A blond, a brunet. A small one, a tall one. A stay-at-home, a party animal. A resigned one, a rebellious one. And yet, they seemed to be well matched beautifully.

And when Zayn got up this morning and saw the copious breakfast Niall had prepared to him, he thought he had definitely met the right person. Sitting on his perpetual windowsill, Niall couldn't help but feel happy as he stared at the dumstruck face plastered on Zayn's face. The brunette looked like a small child in a sweet shop. His eyes were wide open and his stomach growled loudly.

''Niall ? Did you do this ?''

It was a tupid question and Zayn knew it, but crap. No one had ever done such a thing for him. No one. Niall nodded his head happily, and Zayn felt his heart sinking painfully.

''For me ?''

Niall's heart melted at Zayn's unsure attitude. He nodded again.

''Thanks...''

Zayn sat down and took a swig of hot chocolate, hiding his confused look behing the big china bowl. He needed to put it into perspective. It was only a few jars of jam et some bought pastries. Why would he start to bawl for this ? But he was touched by the kind thought, more than he was willing to admit. He slowly chewed up an apple turnover under Niall's gaze. Then he grabbed a chocolate croissant and bit into it shamelessly. He let out a moan. This thing tasted like paradise.

''Shit, mate, you should try this thing !''

Zayn was surprised by own friendliness with Niall, but it just had come natural to him, and his words had been said in utter sincerity. Niall looked amused as he noticed that Zayn got chocolate stains at the corner of his mouth. Then, his gaze slipped over the pastry. And his expression changed into disgust.

''No thanks,'' he said in an overly chipper tone.

Zayn's enthusiasm immediately subsided. It was not the first time Niall had refused to eat. Zayn knew it. He was the only one eating in this apartment. Niall just drank coffee and sometimes nibbled on a piece of bread. Was it normal to barely eat like this ?

Certainly not. Zayn's gaze furtively studied at Niall's figure. The blond always wore loose clothes, and Zayn could see that he was a quite thin boy, but he didn't know how was his body, or for how long he had forced himself into this extreme diet. But one thing was for sure. It was not healthy. Niall was going to start to eat. Zayn silently made this promise to himself.

This is how Zayn Malik started to cook. Purely and simply because he wanted Niall to eat.

 


	5. Chapitre 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey :) Hope everyone's good. I'm a little despaired, because I didn't receives any reviews for the previous chapters, but I hope the more the story develop, the more you like it :)

Sticks and stones they may break these bones  
But then I'll be ready, are you ready?  
It's the start of us, waking up, come on  
Are you ready? I'll be ready  
I don't want control, I want to let go  
Are you ready? I'll be ready  
Cause now it's time to let them know  
We are ready  
[What About Us](https://youtu.be/FAn-ONDy_Zc) – P!nk

''Niall ? Dinner is served !''

Zayn put two steaming plates on the table and placed his hands on his hips, proudly looking at the meal he had just cooked. Well, it was only a steak with green beans. But it was a beginning. It was the first time Zayn had done this. It was the first time he had taken care of someone else and done the cooking for them. He was only a novice. He thought that Niall would have less difficulty with eating vegetables than a big greasy burger loaded with calories.

Niall came in the kitchen, his gaze automatically landing over the food. The blond held back a wince of disgust.

''I'm not very hungry tonight,'' he said, trying to look nonchalant.

Zayn frowned, staring at him. Oh no, he wouldn't get away with this.

''I took the trouble to cook something, so sit and _eat_.''

Niall held Zayn's gaze only a few seconds, then he sat on his chair. Sometimes, he hated himself for being so fearful and docile. He had never had the strength to stand up for himself anyway. Where most of the people would get back on their feet stronger, Niall just kowtowed more every time.

 The blond picked at his food reluctantly. He didn't want to eat. His body refused this food that was not goof for him. He felt spied on by Zayn who was progresively becaming too attentive to his needs. The silence surrounding them became unbearable for Niall who hastened to break it :

''We didn't talk much since you arrived. I know nothing about you.''

''What do you want to know ?'' Asked Zayn, a little defensiveness seeping into his voice.

 What a lovely atmosphere.

''How old are you ?''

''I'm 25.''

Only a year older than Niall. The blond waited for Zayn to rekindle the conversation, but nothing came. Apparently, Zayn didn't like talking about himself.

''And do you have any passions ?''

Zayn was caught off guard by the question. He couldn't answer 'drinking, smoking, doing drugs and fucking'', as he always did. He didn't want to look like a damn fool to Niall's eyes. So he diligently thought about the question. Passions ? Things he genuinely liked ?

''I guess I like...drawing. Yeah. Art is good.''

''Can you draw ?''

''A bit.''

Niall was clearly impressed. He would loved being an artist too. Having a talent. But all he could do was playing five chords on the guitar. Something he learnt when he was in year 8. His music teacher even told him he was talented, but it's probably what he repeated to all his students. Niall really liked playing the guitar. Feeling the strings under his fingers, creating magic sounds.

But when he had tried playing in front of a few students from his class, what was starting to become a passion took a disastrous turn. He hadn't touched another instrument ever since. He didn't want the same to happen to Zayn. He wanted to encourage the brunette.

''Will you...w-will you show me some day ?''

''Most of my drawings are in your full sight,'' Zayn revealed, pointing at his forearm covered with tattoos.

''Can I... ?

Zayn nodded his head and awkwardly held his arm out, allowing Niall to gently run his pale fingers on the warm tanned skin, following the beautiful patterns of the tattoos.

''It's beautiful. You should pursue it as a career."

''Really ?''

''I'm sure of it !'' Niall exclaimed, offering him his most sincere smile.

Zayn felt flattered by this support. He never thought he could make a use of his passion for drawing, but Niall was right. Tattoo... He could inquire in a tattoo parlor.

Zayn turned his attention back to Niall who was innocently pushing a bean with his fork. He had hardly eaten anything. The blond had tried to distract attention from his lack of appetite. Zayn was sure about it. But Zayn wouldn't fall into the trap. He wouldn't get duped by Niall's innocent face and friendly conversations. It was out of question.

''Finish your plate, I have a surprise for the dessert.''

His tone didn't imply any refusal. Niall felt deep and dreadful distress engulf him. He didn't want to eat. It was too much. Way too much. He couldn't eat anymore. He wished he could have yelled at Zayn to leave him alone. He wished he could have started to cry hysterically, he wished he could have said no to this idiot who wanted to fatten him up. Really. But instead, Niall complies without fighting and lifted his fork to his mouth with a shaking hand. Mouthful after mouthful, slowly and with difficulty, the blond ate his meal under Zayn's bossy gaze.

When Niall finally put his cutlery down on the table, he heaved a sigh of relief and slumped on his chair. Stop. He couldn't eat anything else.

But Zayn got up and brought a pink cardboard box from the fridge, and he made Niall eat a strawberry tartlet bought in a bakery.

Because ever since Zayn had discovered that Niall adored this pastry, he continually bought it for him.

After dinner, Niall heavily let himself fall in the sofa. There was a shooting pain in his stomach. He hadn't eaten for days. It was too much for him. It tried not to think about what he had seen in the kitchen while clearing the table. Zayn had left the can of the sauce he had used to go with the meat. The label said that this sauce contained 307 calories. All Niall could see was that number. It was enormous. Too much. He couldn't imagine what represented a strawberry tartle full of pastry cream. Besides, recently, he felt like pigging out on it all day along. He felt pathetic giving in so easily.

He could already see his hips and his thighs fattening and his paunch developing. He imagined his face getting puffy, flushed and repulsive. He needed to stop stuffing down like an ugly pig. His body was far from easy on the eyes, and he didn't want things to get any worse. He had to stop gorging like this. And yet, he knew he wouldn't he able to say no to Zayn when he would command him to eat. He felt tears prickle on the corner of his eyes. He was so pathetic. So weak. He hated himself. He hated himself with all his soul.

He roughly pinched the soft skin of his arm. He wanted to punish himself for eating so much food. For not going up against Zayn. For not managing to control his own life.

''Niall, I'm going ou-...''

Zayn paused as he noticed the distressed look on Niall's face. The blond remained motionless in the sofa and looked lost in his world. Zayn put his leather jacket on, then put his hand on Niall's shoulder.

''Niall ? Are you okay ?''

Niall lifted his head and gave the brunet a bright smile contrasting with the tears that were beginning to pool in his cerulean blue eyes.

''Oh Zayn, you're going out ? Be careful !''

His cheerful voice was quavering. Zayn stood speechless at that view. Niall looked more broken and unstable than ever. He was a very bad actor. And despite his childish fragility, his trembling smile and his eyes filled with tears, Zayn thought that he had never seen anything so beautiful. So he took a decision. A choice that ran counter to all his principles, but that was made instinctively. His night quickie-druggie would wait the next day.

Niall came before the stranger Zayn would have brought into his bed tonight.

Niall came before Zayn's drug addict needs.

Niall came before everything.

So Zayn took his jacket off and let himself fall on the sofa by Niall's side.

''What are we doing tonight ?''

Niall gave him a surprised look.

''Aren't you leaving ?''

Zayn looked deep into Niall's eyes.

''No. I'm staying with you.''

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :) As promised, here is the chapter 6 ! Pleeaaase, I would love to read your opinion about this story, feel free to comment it, anything could help me to improve my English...

_So complicated_  
_Look how big you make it_  
_Filled with so much hatred_  
_Such a tired game_  
_It's enough_  
_I've done all I can think of_  
_Chase down all my demons_  
_And see you do the same_  
[Fucking Perfect](https://youtu.be/BUGJ02Uc8yA) – P!nk

 

 This kind of event never happened again. To Niall's great dismay. He hadn't thanked Zayn, and yet, the fact that the brunette had stayed with him this night had profoundly affected him. He hadn't even slept of the night, wondering why Zayn paid so much attention to him. Zayn took care of him, and it disturbed him. It should have bee, the opposite. Niall was supposed to be Zayn's hero. Not the other way around. And yet.

 This night, as they were both sitting in the sofa, Niall's phone rang. A song Zayn knew. It was a classic by Sum 41. Welcome To Hell, if his memory didn't betray him. Ironic choice. Zayn was surprised. Not by Niall's music tastes. No, because everybody loved Sum 41. These guys were walking legends. Actually, Zayn was surprised that Niall's phone was ringing. He had never seen the blond use his phone, except for checking the time. He had never seen Niall's ringing for a message or a call. So obviously, it was surprising.

 ''Hello ? Mum ?''

Zayn took the tv remote and turned the sound down not to bother him and – maybe – try to listen for some fragment of the conversation. It seemed always strange to Zayn knowing that the others had parents. He never knew his parents, and he tended to apply his way of life to the rest of the world. Niall's mother's voice sounded soft and likeable. The kind of voice made to sing lullabies and tell goodnight stories.

''Niall, my baby, how are you ?''

''I'm good, mum.''

''Really ? You haven't called me for weeks !''

''Oh, I'm sorry, I'm really busy.''

''Don't apologize, sweetheart ! I'm glad you're enjoying your life ! Have you seen Josh and Bradley recently ?''

''Yes I have. We went to a party together last weekend.''

Zayn frowned. Niall had never mentioned these guys. But most importantly, Niall had not gone to any party last weekend. Zayn was sure of it, because he had stayed with him all the night. Either he had serious memory problems, either he was impudently lying to his mother.

''Were there any girls at this party ?''

''Mum !'' Niall snapped, blush creeping up his cheeks.

Niall glanced at Zayn, then got up and walked to the kitchen to keep his conversation. Zayn was confused. Niall didn't look the type to lie.

Fifteen minutes later, the younger one came back and let himself fall in the sofa. Zayn hesitated. Should he talk to him or shut up ? He should probably let it pass... But he was curious guy, and he was itching to learn more about this.

''Josh and Bradley, mmh ?'' He said with an innocent voice.

''My mum has a tendency to easily panick about me. I do that for her own good.'' Niall awkwardly explained, knowing he was dishonnest with the person he was the closest with. His mum had done everything for him. She had done everything to protect him. Now, it was his turn. He didn't want her to suffer. And only god knew wether she had suffered because of him in the past.

''So you lie to her inventing yourself an imaginary life.''

''Yeah.''

It was not the most tactful way to summarize the situation. But it was true. Niall protected his mum inventing himself a false happiness. The roles were reversed. The balance was disrupted. Zayn wondered how Mrs Horan could fall for such a deception. She had never met any of her son's friends.

Zayn drew the simple conclusion : she was probably aware of her son's lies, but she prefered a reassuring lie than a hurting truth. He couldn't blame her. A lot of people had the same way of thinking. It was a way to preserve themselves from cruelty of life.

Zayn was hit by the solitude in which Niall was trapped. The blonde never saw anyone. He didn't even go out to buy bread, go shopping or have a drink. Which usually created the bases of a social life.

No, Niall Horan just lived in his apartment. Waiting the day when he wouldn't have any choice and would have to face up to the world. And this confrontation would be violent. Zayn knew it.

Saddened by this statement, Zayn put his jacket on. Tonight, he planned to go in a club. He knew the boss, and he always gave good prices. He glanced at Niall and thought back on the blonde's conversation with his mother.

''Niall ?''

''Mmh ?''

''Do you want to come with me ?''

Niall looked more annoyed than touched by this display of compassion.

''No,'' he answered categorically.

Zayn shrugged and walked out. If Nial was always so antisocial, no wonder he was always alone. Anyway, Zayn really meant to enjoy his night. There were limits to his kindness.

 

-X-

 

Zayn went out every night and always brought a sexual partner in his bed. But he always made sure to send them away before Niall woke up. Out of respect. Except today. And Niall would have preferred never deal with one of Zayn's conquests.

He was preparing his coffee, like every morning, thinking about the dissertation he had to write for one of his class and his weight gain, when he heard a feminine voice coming from behind.

''I didn't know there was another lad here... Hi cutie.''

Niall startled and spinned around. Amused, the young girl slowly avdanced on him. She was very beautiful with long brown hair and almond-shaped eyes. But she was really shameless. She had showed up in his kitchen only wearing black panties and a vest top that wasn't hiding very much her absence of bra. Where were her manners ?

Her brown gaze lingered over Niall for a long time, examining him up and down. Niall wished he could run away, disappear on the other side of the earth, anything to avoid being there. His discomfort was quickly noticed by the creature who sported a predatory smile, which Niall found particularly frightening. She walked even closer to him, and he shrank away and found himself cornered against the counter top. What should he do ? Run away ? Shout ? Offer her a coffee ? He couldn't do anything. He stayed there, motionless, unresponsive. He didn't react even when she wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer, invading his personal space. He just lowered his eyes on the woman's hands which were travelling down his torso.

''Don't be shy. You really turn me on, I'm sure you'll like it.

For emphasis, one of her hand slipped on his thigh, then pressed on his crotch and fondled it. Niall's breath hitched. It was not pleasure. He felt trapped, humiliated, used. He felt like a molested kid. And yet he was 24. His throat closed up when she began latching onto the waistband of his tracksuit. No no no... He didn't want that ! But he was unable to speak up.

''Don't touch him.''

Zayn's deep voice reverberated against the walls of the kitchen. A sharp, cold and threatening voice. Zayn looked terrifying, imposing and confident. Niall felt the girl let him go. She offered Zayn a sad pout.

''But love, I only wanted to help him a bit, he looks so uptight !''

Niall lowered his gaze. It hurt.

''Get out.''

''But-...''

''SOD OFF !''

Zayn brutally grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the door, ignoring her squeaks of pain. He kicked her out and walked back in the kitchen, running a hand through his hair. His eyes softened as he saw Niall's frail figure.

''You okay ?''

Niall just nodded quietly, then took his coffee. The two men shared a silent breakfast, Zayn wondering why he felt so angry seeing the girl touching Niall, Niall wondering why he had reacted so pathetically and childishly. 

-X-

 

This meeting had left a mark on Niall. Now, the blond man couldn't help but imagine those creatures in Zayn's arms every night. He had difficulty getting to sleep, listening out for the moans of his apartment mate, imagining his head thrown back, squirming of a pleasure the blond didn't know. Niall was going crazy. The lack of sleep was stressing him out. He was starting being really irritated by Zayn's behaviour.

He was fed up with hearing Zayn being loved all the night, while the blonde always stayed alone. Because, that was the problem. Not only Zayn fascinated him, but also he reminded him how he could get everything unlike Niall. While the blonde had to gather his courage to go to the supermarket. Who would want an asocial idiot like him ? Who would want a hollow boy like him ? Who would want Niall ? He wasn't desirable. Another moan burst out from Zayn's room. Niall got up, knowing he wouldn't sleep a wink all night. He sat down in the sofa et turn the tv on.

He stayed like this until the sun rised, until Zayn made his whore leave.

''Oh. You're already awake ?'' Zayn asked, walking in the living room.

Niall glowered at him. He was not in the mood today. Not after a night spent thinking about how repulsive he was.

''Wow, you look like shit, mate.''

It was the wrong thing to say to Niall. All the anger he was containing violently burst out.

''I'd look better if I could sleep more than two hours without hearing your moans of animals in rut.''

Zayn freezed. Niall's voice was hard, stern, dripping with acid. So different.

''Sorry ? You have a problem Niall ?''

''You are my problem Zayn. You and your fucking whores.''

''I warned you about my way of life Niall...''

Zayn was doing his best to keep his cool, even though he didn't understand Niall's sudden change in attitude and his aggressiveness to him. He didn't do anything. Nothing could explain his anger.

''Trust me, if I knew what was in store, I would never have agreed to host a fucking junkie under my roof.''

A tense silence fell upon them and Niall looked just as shocked by his own words as Zayn felt ; as if he wanted to grab them before they solidify in the air and shove them back in his throat.

But before the blonde had time to apologize, Zayn grasped his jacket and stormed out, slamming the door in his trail. Niall remained stoic. One, two, three seconds.

Then, he collapsed, his small body shaken with uncontrollable sobs.

He had screwed up everything.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 He had been fool to the only person who cared a little about him... He couldn't believe those horrible words had escaped his mouth. So hard. So cold. So reductive. So wrong. So hurting. He was a monster. He didn't deserve Zayn. He was anathema to Zayn. He hated himself.

Niall stayed motionless all day long, sitting in his sofa, straight as a ramrod, eyes fixed on the front door that he hoped would open at any moment. He wanted to apologize to Zayn, say to him he had been idiot and selfish. Maybe start to cry. Beg him forgiveness. Needless to say that he hadn't eaten all day. He had been waiting for Zayn for the morning, eyes glassy and devoid of any emotion.

The hours went by, slowly, stretching out to infinity. Niall's thoughts were chaotic and muddled. What if Zayn never came back ? What if Zayn had done something stupid ? What if Zayn paid him back in his own coin ? Soon darkness fell. It was very late when the door finally creaked open.

Niall jumped on his feet, ignoring his painful joints. He wanted to cry in relief. Zayn was back. He was going to apologize. And everything would be fine. Everything would return to normal.

But when Zayn focused his wild eyes on Niall, the blond man immediately knew that something was wrong. Boundless anger and desperation were swimming in Zayn's blown wide pupils. Zayn was drugged to the core. And it was all Niall's fault.

Zayn wasn't really himself anymore. He didn't remember what he had drunk, smoked or taken. He didn't remember what he had done today, feeling like he was in a thick, dark and oppressive fog. Like smoke from a fire that stung eyes and burnt lungs. He didn't know how he had managed to find his way back home. He wanted to get his stuff back and get out of this place where he wasn't welcome. He didn't want to be a burden. He didn't want to stay in a place where he was judged.

But he didn't expect to find Niall waiting for him.

When he met his blue eyes filled with worry, all the rage he had held in strongly increased. Fucking innocence. Fucking affection.

''Zayn ? Are you okay ?''

Zayn felt a bitter lump forming in his throat when he heard Niall's shy voice.

Why was he always so nice ? So gentle ? Why couldn't he just ignore him since he was nothing to him ?

Zayn shot Niall a bloodcurdling glare.

''Why do you fucking care ? You wanted a fucking junkie ?'' He streched his arms out wide, then let them fall to his sides limply. ''You have you fucking junkie. Hope you like the show.''

Niall felt his heart clench within his chest.

''Zayn... I... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said to you, I was just angry, I...”

Zayn's sarcastic laugh suddenly cut him off.

''Shut the fuck up. Your words make me want to puke.''

Niall let out a hiccuping sob, and thick, hot streams of tears started pouring down his face. What had he done ? What had he done to Zayn ? He had to help him. It was all his fault, and he had to take the responsability to the consequences of his actions. He wouldn't run away. He didn't want to.

He wipes his tears away with his sleeve and fixed his gaze in Zayn's hazel eyes.

''Move Niall. Go to bed. It's late.''

''No.''

There was a flash of surprise through Zayn's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by something much darker. Something like a desire to hurt.

''Wow. Niall Horan is capable of saying no. Breaking news.''

''I'm staying with you.''

''Don't fucking play that, don't play tough, don't pretend to be a hero. We're not in a fairy tale or a B movie. And it's not because you look like a fucking twelve-year-old kid that I will keep from shoving my fist in you face. So friendly advice, you shut up, as you usually do so well.”

Niall tried to pretend that Zayn's words didn't cut him deep, didn't slice him open, but it did. He could feel the tears threatening to fall again. He was so fragile. It was so painful.

''Oh, you gonna boohoo like a little girl ? Please, spare me.''

''Stop it...''

''Ask it politely.''

''Stop it, please.''

Niall ducked his head shamefully. Zayn was staring at him unblinkingly, a wicked smirk plastered on his face. He was enjoying this situation. He liked watching Niall so submissive to him.

A puppet. A broken soul. It was turning him on. He must be so damned unhinged to enjoy this vision of destruction facing him. He advanced on Niall, suddenly craving to feel him closer. Then, he combed his hand through Niall's hair and violently yanked at the blond locks, forcing him to lift his head. He wanted to see his azure eyes filled with tears.

Niall bit back a cry of pain. Zayn was scaring him. This Zayn who was facing him was not the Zayn he knew. This one was crazy. Possessed. In the grip of the darkness.

''You want to make it up to me, don't you Niall ?''

Niall suspiciously nodded. He didn't like Zayn's honeyed voice. But he wanted to redeem himself. If he could erase his words, turn back the clock, he would do it. Zayn's satisfied smile deepened. He pressed a firm hand to the nape of the blond's neck, his fingers catching the hair there.

''Good boy.''

Zayn pulled Niall closer and buried his face into the blond's neck. His scent filled his nose. God, he smelt so good. It was a scent Zayn couldn't define. A reassuring yet sensual scent. Niall's pale skin was warm, and Zayn could feel his blood pounding in his jugular vein. The brunette couldn't help but press his lips on Niall's skin.

Niall opened his eyes wide as he felt Zayn's mouth on him, inching down his neck and along his collarbone, making an involuntary shiver wrack through the blonde. His skin was reacting to Zayn's hot, plump and velvety lips. He couldn't help it. He couldn't control the surge of arousal that made his body vibrate. Zayn darted his tongue out to lick a stripe up Niall's neck and used his free hand to creep under the blonde's perpetual grey jumper.

''Z-Zayn.... What are you doing ?'' Niall choked.

Zayn didn't answer. Wasn't it clear enough ? Or maybe he needed to be more straight ? He stroked Niall's hip, then let his fingers graze the blond's stomach. Niall violently flinched. No. Not his stomach. Not his hips.

''Zayn, stop it !''

Niall struggled, clutching Zayn's shoulder and trying to push him away. Zayn suddenly felt rejected. And if there was one thing he couldn't bear, it was rejection.

He put any gentleness aside, grabbed Niall's wrists and savagely pinned him against the closer wall. This time, Niall couldn't hold back a groan of pain to escape his lips.

''Zayn stop it ! Please stop it !''

Zayn remained insensitive to Niall's wailing. Deaf. He was in his world. He wanted Niall. He was lusting after him. His innocent look, his purity, his ingenuousness, his kindness. All these things he was attracted to, all these things he was jealous of. He wanted to deprave him, to sully him.

How could Niall remain full of kindness despite his dark side ? Why Zayn wasn't like him ? The brunette was furious. He collapsed his body against Niall's, holding his small wrists with a bruising grip, grinding his hips on his crotch.

Niall was whining, crying and struggling. Zayn sank his teeth in the blonde's neck, violently, without scruples. Niall yelped in pain. And what was aiming to subdue the blonde only accentuated his will to escape from his assailant's arms.

And it only took an off-guard moment from Zayn, and Niall ran to his bedroom and locked his door. He let himself fall down the floor, crying so hard he couldn't breath, trying hard to calm his racing heartbeat. Zayn had chased after him. Niall, he wanted Niall.

Niall could hear the brunette pounding the door, yelling at the blonde to get out. Niall curled up in a ball and pugged his ears, trying to muffle Zayn's furious cries, whispering to himself that everything would be okay. Yes, everything would be fine if he closed his eyes and pugged his ears.

-X-

Around three in the morning, dead silence envelopped the apartment. In the living room, a brunette was sleeping in the sofa, unconscious of the gravity of his actions, and a blonde was hiding in his bedroom, clinging to his pillow desperately, his eyes dry but open, dreading the daybreak.


	8. Chapter 8

_And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be_  
_Right in front of me, talk some sense to me_

[Amber Run - I found](https://youtu.be/PbSZhGONRBg)

 When Zayn opened his eyes, he was surprised to discover that he was laying in the sofa and he was wearing the same clothes than the day before. He had a furred tongue, and he had trouble regaining consciousness. He fished his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. 12 o'clock. It was 12pm and everything was silent in the apartment. Zayn frowned as he painfully straightened up. Niall usually got up at around 8 to study on his pc and finish some academic work. Slightly disoriented and worried, he managed to stand up and walked to his roomate's room.

He was about to knock on the door when he saw the grazes on his knuckles. He frowned. When did he get these bruises ? What had he done the day before ? He tried to remember, but his memory remained as locked as a strong-box.

Zayn felt a dread like smoldering black embers right in the pit of his stomach. He had a foreboding. Something was wrong and he knew it. He shyly knocked on the door, naively hoping that Niall would come out, eyes full of sleep, and would apologize for having slept late.

“Niall ?”

No answer. Zayn's pulse was racing. His heart dropped. Maybe Niall didn't hear his call ? He knocked a littler stronger.

“Niall ?!”

Nothing. Only silence.

On the other side of the door, Niall was mutely listening. He was trying to define which Zayn he was dealing with. If he was brave enough, he would have yelled to the brunette to fuck himself, to gather his stuff and get out. To never approach him again. But Niall was not like this. He was the kind of person to blame himself, to understand and forgive too quickly. Much too quickly. Making his own safety go after the others'.

So he just got up, unlocked his door, and opened it wide. Without any distrust. Niall was ready to cope. He didn't want to be scared of a man who didn't know himself how deep was his dark side.

Zayn remained stoic in front of Niall. The blonde had gaut features and puffy red eyes. His clothes were creased and his hair disheveled. But what held Zayn's attention was the purplish-blue scar Niall had on his neck. Teeth mark. A bite mark inflicted by someone without merciless.

And Zayn knew.

He knew he was the only responsible of this disaster. Fragments of his madness dawned on him. His morbid pleasure of submission. The desire to hurt Niall. To claim ownership of the blonde. The paradox to love him, to break him. He had hurt Niall. Mentally and physically. He had been abject. He stepped back, disgusted with himself.

“N-Niall, I-... I-I'm so sorry...”

He didn't know what to say. How could he justify his behaviour ?

He had felt so pathetic when Niall had called him a junkie. He had felt so useless that it had brought out the worst in him. How could he explain the unexplainable ? He was meant for the hatred of the world.

“I didn't mean to hurt you...”

Zayn just needed to meet Niall's gaze. The last one.

“Niall, please...look at me...” He begged.

And Niall looked at Zayn. Blue sea eyes against ebony iris. There was no resentment in Niall's eyes. No hatred. His blank stare frightened Zayn. It was worst than anything, as if Zayn had blown out the last candle.

“I-...I'd better go,” Zayn said as he looked down.

“No !” Niall shouted. “I don't want you to leave.”

The blonde sighed as he saw Zayn's surprised face.

“I'm not angry with you. It was all my fault, I shouldn't have talked to you like that yesterday. You're not a fucking junkie. You're good. And I went too far. I'm just-... I just don't know how to act with people, Zayn. And I really don't know what to think of what happened last night. But I don't want you to leave. I don't want you to be alone. Please Zayn, stay. Don't go away.”

At those words, something strange happened. Something even Zayn didn't understand.

He was staring at Niall's angelic face, his heart pounding. Then he blinked. Once. Twice. And tears started streaming down his face. And he didn't understand why.

Zayn hadn't cried for years.

He shamefully scrabbled to dry away his tears, but the emotions which were choking him were too strong. He couldn't control them. And other tears escaped. Again and again.

Zayn sobbed as quietly as he could, his shoulders slumping and his back hunching in sheer exhaustion. He was shaking under the burden of his guilt. Niall had never seen him so fragile. The blonde had a lump in his throat, and his heart sank. And though he hated human contact, he naturally took Zayn in his arms.

It was okay. He was here. He accepted Zayn's darkness. He understood it. He forgave it...

He was gently rocking Zayn in his arms, his fingers running soothingly through the brunette's silky hair as if he were a lost child. He felt Zayn's hands desperately clutch his sweater.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry...”

“It's okay, Zayn. It's okay...”

They stayed there for a long time, in each other's arms. Because they needed it.

 

-X-

 

This incident had the impact of a stone thrown at full speed in an ice-covered lake. Breaking the protective layer of ice. Something had changed in the relationship of the two men. Their smiles were more sincere, their conversations were longer, their complicity was greater. Not to the point of bursting out laughing loudly patting each other's back. But it was something more intimate. A bond was progressively forging between them. Neither knew how to define it, but it was there. It was real. As though the dark side of one found its light in the other.

Niall was to Zayn what Zayn was to Niall.

A friend. A family. An anchor. A savior.


	9. Chapter 9

_"You took my hand in yours_  
_You started breaking down my walls_  
_And you covered my heart in kisses_  
_I thought life passed me by_  
_Missed my tears, ignored my cries_  
_Life had broken my heart, my spirit_  
_And then you crossed my path_  
_You quelled my fears, you made me laugh_  
_Then you covered my heart in kisses"_

Sia - [Dressed In Black](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0-0Ryu9yVQo)

 Zayn not only promised Niall he would never come back home drugged again, but he also starting tooking care of Niall twice as much as before. 

He would try to make Niall smile whe he looked devoid of life. He would cook for him when he wouldn't eat. He would help him to make progress in his extended essay when he was working on it all the night.

But Zayn never dared to broach the real problem. The one that led Niall to never eat, the one that led him to stub out his burning cigarette on his ankle, the one that led him to look away from his own body in front of the mirror of the bathroom.

Niall had a serious problem. His pain was tangible. So much deeper and more important than Zayn's. While Zayn wanted to yell at the whole world that he indeed existed, Niall seemed to want only one thing : disappear from the face of the world. And worst of all, Zayn didn't know what to do to fix what had been broken. So he just stood there. By Niall's side. As a mere presence. It was the only thing he could offer to the blonde.

The evening, before going out, when Zayn would see Niall watching the telly with a blank stare, he would put his keys down, would take his jacket off and would sit down beside the blonde. Lately, this situation was more and more regular, and soon, Zayn's parties became less and less frequent. The brunette was doing drugs less and less. And he didn't even think about it. The fact that he hit and almost raped Niall had profoundly shocked him. He didn't want to lose control anymore. Ever. But he couldn't fight against physical dependence. The one that burnt your guts. The one that could drive you mad...

That night, Zayn was slouched in the sofa with Niall. Nothing unusual.

They were watching a football game. FC Barcelona was winning. Nothing unusual.

But what was less usual was the violent surge of dread that suddenly took hold of Zayn, slowly paralysing each of his muscles. He made the mistake to thing about a pill. And soon, this pill became an obsession. And what was first a desire became a real urge. He really needed a pill. Only one.

There was a shooting pain in his abdomen. He had the feeling that a juggernaut weighing a ton was crushing his rib cage. He was in pain. He was suffocating. He threw a worried glance to Niall as he struggled to breathe. He didn't want the blonde to worry, but he knew he wouldn't be able to handle his withdrawal without help. He had to resist, with all his strength. His conscience was yelling at him to take drugs. All he had to do was go into his room and fetch the pills he had hidden in the second drawer of his dresser, under his boxer shorts. But he refused to give in. Not here. Not with Niall. He wouldn't hurt the blonde again.

He was fighting a ferocious battle in his mind. He was fighting against himself. And self-destruction was slowly winning. Abdication was so tempting. He would feel so good if he could swallow a pill. So free.

A sweat drop dripped down his forehead, then along his backbone until his lower back. All his body was shivering like a leaf. He was freezing cold and sweating. His muscles were tensing harder and harder. He was gasping for air. His breath kept hitching painfully and he couldn't get the oxygen to settle in his lungs. His leg started jolting.

He was losing the game. He was going down. He was going to give in.

“Zayn, what do I have to do ?”

Zayn heard Niall's voice like a breath of fresh air. The blonde sounded calm. But only on the surface. Inwardly, he was terrified by his friend's condition. Zayn let out a grunt. Something between a plea and a curse. He clenched the armrest of the sofa in a tight grip.

“Tell me. I'd do everything.”

“Distract me,” Zayn muttered through clenched teech.

Strange answer. But the most logical one. Zayn needed to focus on something else. He had to forget his withdrawal. Niall's mind started racing. What could he do ? He had nothing to tell, and read a story wouldn't be very effective. Niall had never felt so powerless. He was panicking. He was at his wit's end.

“Niall...”

What did Zayn like to do ? Drawing ? Unfortunately, Niall hadn't any colouring book to hand. And he was sure that if he suggested that Zayn 'drew his demons to demonstrate them', the brunette would make him eat his pen. So what did he like apart from that ? Zayn spent his days sleeping, eating, watching TV, worrying for Niall and fuc...

And just like that, Niall got his answer. He sat dumbfounded. No, he couldn't do something like that...could he ? … Would he dare ? … Was he ready to do such a thing for him ?...

“Please...” Zayn begged. “Do something... Help me...”

Niall looked at the brunette, thinking that there was something beautiful in his pain. His silent resistance, his profound hardness. Zayn was strong. And Niall had to be at least as brave as him. For him.

Driven by a new determination, Niall got up and stood in front of Zayn who was confusedly staring at him. Niall put his hands on Zayn's thighs in a soothing gesture. Then he crooked his fingers under the hem of his tracksuit and brought it down. Surprised, Zayn tried to pull it up.

“Please Zayn... Just...let me, alright ?”

Zayn didn't reply. He just stared at Niall with dull eyes.

“I need you to trust me,” Niall continued reassuringly.

Zayn nodded his head after a few seconds of hesitation, giving Niall the permission he needed.

With shaky hands, Niall helped Zayn to take off his trousers. Zayn's body suddenly spasmed, and he closed his eyes, focusing on breathing slowly. He was in so much pain. This thing was tearing his guts apart. He was going to die here.

Niall studied him, worried. He wanted to help him. He wanted to relieve him. He was ready for anthing. So without tearing his eyes away from Zayn's tensed face, Niall slipped his small hand into the brunette's boxers. Zayn startled and opened his eyes, shocked and guilty.

“Niall, don't do that.”

Now, he knew what Niall meant to do.

Sex.

Niall wanted to sexually pleasure him to distract him from his fucking ecstazy. But Zayn wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow Niall to force himself to do something he probably didn't want to. Niall timidly lowered his gaze as he cheeks burned in embarrassment. Without a word, he started stroking unexperimently Zayn's penis. He wouldn't chicken out. No way. Even if he was scared. Even if it was the first time he had touched another person. He would go all the way.

Niall moved his hand up and down in uncertain strokes, feeling Zayn's penis slowly swelling. In a short time, the brunette's penis was completely hard in Niall's shaking grip. The blond man surprised himself feeling not that disturbed by the situation. He even felt rather satisfied. He pulled out his hand and creeped his fingers under the hem of Zayn's boxers before bringing it down his ankles. The brunette's penis sprung free, and Zayn closed his eyes.

“Niall...” He begged.

He didn't even know if he was begging Niall to stop, or on the contrary, to keep up his slow torture. Niall was staring at Zayn's penis with worried eyes. He was not disgusted. He was only scared. Scared of doing something wrong, scared of not being up to it. Zayn had had so many conquests, and Niall didn't want to make a fool of himself because he was an unexperienced virgin. But he trusted Zayn. And if he was not comfortable with him, he probablement would never be with anyone. Zayn knew so much about him. And he was still by his side.

He got again a firm grip around Zayn's length and started tugging it in smooth, urgent strokes. Zayn threw his head back, heaving a sigh of pleasure. Niall started suckling at the head with kitten licks, making Zayn's eyes flutter. The brunette bit his lower lip. Was Niall really giving him a fucking blowjob ? He couldn't believe it. He felt Niall's unskilled tongue swirl around him, up and down his shaft. Damn. The blonde tried to deepthroat in a clumsy gesture. When the tip hit the back of his throat, he gagged on it and moved away, coughing, tears in his eyes, a heavy sense of shame crushing his chest.

But he didn't give in. He tried again and continued his ministrations. After a few difficult fondlings, he found a steady rhythm and started sucking a little harder and bobbed his blond head even faster.

Zayn was greeting his teeth, sometimes releasing hoarse whimpers. He was restraining himself from fisting Niall's hair to make him go faster and much harder. He didn't want to push frighten him, or shock him. But he realized he was lusting after the blond man more than he thought.

He opened his eyes and lowered his gaze toward Niall, and a low growl escaped his lips. Niall was shyly looking up at him, his lovely lips stretched around him. He was beautiful. Zayn started to feel the fire of his orgasm as it pools in his lower belly, and when he felt Niall's teeth brush against his length, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it longer 

“Niall...I'm going to...”

Niall looked up at him, eyes confused. Then, he tasted Zayn in his mouth, hot and heavy. He flinched away, surprised, and instinctively swallowed it.

Zayn was trying to catch his breath and control the last spasms shaking his body. His withdrawal was gone. Replaced by a feeling of satisfaction, serenity and delight.

He looked down and met Niall's innocent eyes. Innocent eyes that crudely contrasted with the last drop of come on the corner of his mouth. Zayn hold back a soft smile and leant toward the younger man, scooping the last remains of come with his thumb. He was adorable. And at the same time incredibly hot. This angel was a call to luxury.

When Zayn was looking at him, he wanted at once to tarnish this incredible purity and preserve it. Opposite emotions were overwhelming him, and that was maybe why it was so good. A perfect combination of wild desire and sheer love.

Niall was blushing deeply. He was slowly realizing what he had just given to his roommate. He got up clumsily, muttering a scared “I think I'm gonna sleep.” In no time at all, he dashed to his room and shut the door behind him. He quickly undressed and curled up under his sheets. What just had happened ? When he thought of it, everything was a blur. He only clearly remembered Zayn. His happiness. His appeasement. His desire. Only him.

His arms folding behind his head, his eyes fixing on the ceiling, his mind was playing back over again Zayn's face reaching his climax. This man was incredibly beautiful. And desirable. Maybe a little too much desirable. He tanned skin, his delicate tattoos, his arms subtly muscled, his eyes glittering with envy, his smile, the way he was biting his lip. Niall bit the inside of his cheek as he felt his penis hardening. Hesitating, he awkardly slipped his hand into his boxers. He could give himself pleasure too. He didn't need Zayn's mouth for this. The image of him was enough.

Zayn had also retired to his room, a little dazed. The same image was passing before his eyes. He tried to sleep, but he definitely couldn't. His mind was haunted by Niall. So he just listened to the steady _tik tok_ of the alarm clock on the bedside table. And suddenly, a muffled moan broke the silence. Intrigued, Zayn pricked up his ears. He wasn't wrong, he had really heard a moan coming from Niall's bedroom. A large smile stretched Zayn's lips, showing his white teeth, his eyes crinckling in the corners. He wanted to laugh. Niall was touching himself. Because of him. He was the one who had caused this. Maybe for the first time... His heart expanded with pride. He oddly felt satisfied, lucky...

Happy ? Yes, it was the right word.

Zayn felt happy.

**-X-**

 

The next day, at breakfast, Zayn and Niall were facing each other in a heavy awkward silence. Zayn cleared his throat.

“Sleep well ?”

“Yeah. You ?”

“Same.”

Immediately, silence fell again. An enthralling conversation. Oh well...

Zayn heaved a sigh. They were stupid and childish. They were supposed to be adults, mature, consenting friends. They should act like it.

“Niall, about yesterday night...”

“Oh, hum...Yeah. Yesterday night. I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do and...”

“Don't apologize. It was very good. Very...pleasurable.”

Niall felt an embarrassing burn in his cheeks. Oh. My. God. He didn't want to talk about that.

“I...It was was the first time I...”

Zayn felt fazed at Niall's insecurities. Niall had been perfect, so perfect. And the fact Zayn was his first time made the action even more beautiful. Zayn got up and walked towards Niall. He tipped Niall's chin up wixth a gentle hand so his blue eyes met his.

“Niall, you did it very well, for the decision you took and...for the rest. You didn't have to do something like that for me. Nobody ever did. But you did. I appreciate that. Thank you.”

They stayed like this, still, lost in the eyes of the other. Then they looked away.

“You should stop being surprised each time someone does something for you, Zayn. You deserve to be cared about.”

With these words, Niall quietly left the kitchen, leaving Zayn completely shaken up.

The following days, all Zayn could think was Niall. Continuously. The brunette knew exactly what this meant. But he wasn't afraid. Not at all.

He had waited all his life to feel these butterflies fluttering metaphorically right out of his chest.

Since his teen years, he waited the person who would be interesting enough to get his attention. Someone sweet enough for him to not just fuck them.

Niall was this person.

And feelings were starting intertwining with their story.

Zayn was falling in love with this piece of earthly paradise.

A paradise haunted by his own demons, that Zayn promised himself to eliminate as much as possible. Because he knew that Niall's dark side wouldn't totally disappear. This dark side was part of the blond man. And it was this dark side that made him so special.

Yes, Zayn loved Niall. But before making any sort of approach, Zayn had to wait. Wait for Niall to be ready to love. And he knew that the blonde would take time to accept it.


	10. Chapter 10

The outside world had always been a source of anxiety to Niall. He didn't feel safe there. He felt like everything was assaulting him in the streets. The people's promptness, the sound of the cars, the passers-by's worn out look. It was too much for Niall. It was a whirlwind of emotions he was unable to handle... And besides, he couldn't stand the people's gazes fixed upon him. He hated those gazes staring at him, scrutinising him, mentally undressing him. So he avoided them as much as possible, with his hood over his head, his headphones plugged in his ears, his eyes always looking at the floor.

The blonde hugged the walls until the supermarket. Once he crossed the treshold of the automatic gates, he exhaled a long breath, thinking that the worst was over. Except he was wrong. He hadn't gone out to do shopping or seen so many people for a several months. The food supplies made him uncomfortable. The overpopulation made him suffocate. He inhaled deeply, and raised his head. He would manage it. He would only buy some groceries

He took a shopping basket and ventured in the main aisle, like a knight with his sword. He had the courage to go there, and he wouldn't chicken out, especially as he had a good reason for coming here... Zayn was about to turn twenty-six, and that quite something. Even if Zayn seemed to think otherwise.

Zayn hadn't told Niall. The blonde had found out by accident. A simple message that had popped up on Zayn's phone when the brunette was absent, and that Niall couldn't help but read : 

” _You sulking Malik? It's been a while, btw. You should come by Monday, I'll offer you five pills and the night of your life. 26 th birthday, that's a cause for celebration. It's a shame that your dealer is the only one to remember it.”_

This message had broken Niall's heart. The blonde may be lonely, but on the day of his birthday, all his family would call him. Zayn had nothing. Niall wondered if the brunette had ever celebrate his birthday once. Bounced from a foster home to another, in which the families were overwhelmed, and the children desparate, there was no room for thoses moments of joy.

But Niall was going to bring about a major change. He was going to show Zayn that he had the right to celebrate his day. And that it wasn't too late too do it. So he was meandering in the aisles of the supermarket, filling his shopping basket up of candies and beverages. He felt like he had regressed to childhoood, and it was strangely enjoyable. A comforting solace for his tormented adult heart.

He stopped by the baking section and stared in awe at the displayed cakes. All these colours, all these candies he hadn't eaten for ages. He heard a voice in his head, asking him if he had thought about the number of calories there was in thoses cakes, telling him he should go the gym instead of looking at this crap, reminding him that eating was noxious to his him.

However, for the first time, Niall hadn't listened to this voice. He gagged it and hushed it up. Completely. This cake was for Zayn. His birthday. His moment of joy. He wouldn't ruin this day because of his hang-ups. He would thing about it later. For now, all he was wishing for was to see Zayn's eyes brightening when he would discover this surprise.

Niall confidently grabbed a huge chocolate cake covered with white frosting and multicoloured sprinkles. He was about to pay for his purchases when he suddenly turned around. Candles ! A birthday without candles wasn't a real birthday ! He chose three packets of ten varicolored candles when a voice he hadn't heard for yeard call out to him.

“Niall ? I can't believe it ! Is that really you ?”

Niall slowly turned on his heels and faced a pretty brown-haired woman of his age. His heart stopped withing his chest. Not her. As he didn't anwer, she continued to talk enthusiastcally.

“Charlotte ! You know, Charlotte Davis ! We were in the same class in 11th grade !”

Of course he remembered her. Maybe a bit too much. Charlotte hadn't really changed, yet she wasmore elegant. She was a breathtaking beauty. She was the most popular girl in high school, and she had got it on with half of the soccer team and she used to get all she wanted in a heartbeat. All the male students had fallen in love with her, and Niall had been not exception to the rule.

Charlotte shamelessly examined Niall up and down.

“You haven't changed at all ! It's crazy !” She deceitfully raved.

Niall felt like this remark had reopened a wound wich hadn't healed yet. With only a few words, she had just split his stitches.

“Wow, wait till I tell the others !”

And what would you tell them, Niall thought bitterly.

That you had just seen again the guy you used to throw in the dumpster because that was where was his place ?

That you realized the guy you used to beat up laughing in the toilets had'nt changed at all ?

That the teenager you destroyed was still alive ?

Charlotte flipped her hair back, making the bracelets she wore on her wrist jingle.

“By the way, I come to think of it ! There is a homecoming tomorrow ! You should come, the people would be very pleased to see you again ! Wait, I have some flyers in my bag. I still dedicate myself to my work, as you know.”

Yes, Niall remembered how she dedicated herself to her work when they showered him with blows. He remembered how she dedicated herself to shame him. He remembered when she pretended she was interested in him only to strip him in a classroom before leaving him alone and naked at all her friends' mercy who laughed at him and took photos of his frail body. Yeah, she had a lot of fun, indeed...

Didn't she realize how much she hurt him ? Didn't they remember Niall's blood and tears ? Didn't they remember his pleas whispered between two groans of pain ? Was it so pointless to them ? So excusable ?

“Niall, it was a pleasure, really. I'll wait for tomorrow, alright ? Have a good evening !”

Then, she confidently walked away, looking pleased as if she had just done a good deed. Niall payed for his purchases and mechanically walked back to his apartment. Like a robot, he locked himself in the bathroom, opened the last drawer and grabbed a razor blade.

Niall had to do it to restrain himself from sinking. It was a matter of survival.

Sometimes, the pain was too unbearable and the memories too vivid. And Niall knew only one solution to appease his demons. He sat down against the door of the bathroom. Actual tears are thick is his eyes and they're threatening to spill over. The blonde stared upward, willing his eyes to absorb the tears back where they belong.

It was the period of his life he hated the most. He _hated_ it. His high school, the place where everything changed. The place where _he_ was changed from innocence to this gaping hole of darkness. The place where trust was replaced by fear.

As a teenager, he got up every day with fear in his stomach of having to go to school. Because he knew he wasn't be safe anymore whenever he passed the metal gates of the school. He always thought : why him ? Why him and not another ? But most of all, he wondered why nobody ever reacted ? All the students knew he was bullied. Even a few teachers knew about it. But nobody ever defended him. Because that was the hierarchy of highschools. There was a stronger one and a weaker one. He was indisputably the weakest link in the chain food.

He could still hear their laughs in his mind. Happy, mocking, amused laughs. He could still see behind his closed eyelids their predatory smiles as they abused him, as he begged them to stop. He could still taste the chalk stick they made him eat. He could still feel their viscous gobs of spit in his hair and on his face. He could still hear their insults in his hear.

Fucking faggot. Fatbody. Ugly pig. Freak.

He could still feel his frail body being showered with blows as he curled up on the floor. He didn't even know how many times he ended up in tears, hidden in a corner of the school. Or how many times he went to this bridge which spanned the highway. He had straddled the deck railing only once. He had dreamt of jumping off this bridge so many times. Almost every night. He remembered how his mother worried about why his grades dropped. Why her son was so quiet and looked so sad. Why he woke up in the middle of the night screaming. She knew something was wrong. She had tried to help, but she had miserably failed.

And the worst was that, sometimes, Niall thought he deserved all this hatred. After all, he was not sociable or interesting. He was fearful, ugly and docile. Maybe he deserved all this disdain. Maybe he was not someone who could be loved. Maybe the bruised he wore on his stomach were his most beautiful outfit. Maybe. Maybe Niall had always deserved this because he had never been good enough.

Not good enough. Not good-looking enough. Not thin enough. Not English enough. Not brown-haired enough. Not popular enough. No smart enough. Not masculine enough.

Niall's vision blurred. His heart was hurting. He wish he could have torn it off his chest and thrown it on the ground. He wanted to scream until his vocal cords tear. Scratch his skin. Rip his thighs too fat. Shave his blond hair. He needed to release and the rage and the pain he had in him. This cocktail of destructive emotions threatened to kill him at any moment.

So in a dexterous and quick hand, he roughly cut his wrist, carving a line on his white wrist. Then he did it again. And again. And soon, his arm was covered in bloody cuts. He stopped when he reached the inside of his elbow. He was panting, but he felt much more unfazed now.

His pain was more bearable. A bit. It was slowly leaving him, with all the blood flowing on his arm. Maybe he had been too much violent for this time. His cuts were deep. His blood fell on the floor. Niall watched the pool of blood in fascination. His head was spinning, but he stayed there, letting his arm bleed.

He wouldn't die. He knew it. He hadn't cut any important vein. He felt good. Light and calm. Cutting himself was his solution. Burning his ankle relieved him, but sometimes, like today, he lost his mind.

Niall was tired. Tired of crying. Tired of being sad. Tired of lying to himself. Tired of being alone. Tired of being hungry. Tired of being angry. Tired of being abnormal. Tired of regretting. Tired of being a burden. Tired of being insignificant. Tired of being empty from inside. Tired of fighting. Tired of being tired.

Except he had forgotten something important. He was not alone anymore.

 


	11. Chapter 11

A sudden harsh knock at the door pulled Niall out of his gloomy thoughts. 

“Niall ! Get out of here, I need to piss. Seriously, I can't hold it anymore !”

Panicked, Niall got up. He felt like he was a deer caught in headlights. Zayn couldn't discover about it. He couldn't see it. He would think Niall was crazy. A fucking nutcase. A masochistic who only inspired disgust and hatred. He would laugh at him. And then he would leave. Niall didn't want that. He stared at the blood running down his arm. How could he hide this ? He couldn't get out with his arm wrapped in a towel, it wouldn't pass unnoticed. He didn't have time to bandage it. 

“Niall ?!”

“Yeah, yeah !”

Niall pulled down the sleeve of his sweater and let out a groan of pain as the rough cloth rubbed against his cuts. Hopefully Zayn wouldn't see anything. The blood wouldn't have time to soak his sweater. He grabbed a towel threw it on the pool of blood. He scrambled to wipe it before dropping the towel in a corner of the bathroom. Then he opened the door, a smile plastered on his face. 

“Sorry. You can go.”

Zayn stared at him several seconds. Who did he think he could dupe ? He looked so bad. So disoriented. His skin was so waxy. Zayn frowned.

“What were you doing in here ?”

“Oh, nothing special !”

Niall had always been a very bad liar. 

“Have you been crying ?”

Niall looked down.

“I'm stressed because of my essay, it's nothing.”

Zayn narrowed his eyes as he stared at Niall's puffy eyes, wet cheeks and frail shoulders. The brunette's gaze slipped over Niall's arms, and he saw the blood slowly blossoming one of the sleeves. 

His heart stopped. He immediately recalled the day he met Niall, and the scars scattered on the blonde's collar bone. And the particular relationship Niall had with pain. And he knew that what he would find under this sleeve wouldn't be pretty. 

“Bullshit. Pull your sleeve up, Niall.”

“No !”

Niall suddenly shrank back, holding tightly his wrist to keep his sleeve down. He looked up at Zayn, eyes filled with tears, silently begging the older one. Surprised, Zayn softened. He cautiously stepped forward and asked again.

“Niall. I won't jugde you. Let me see. Let me take care of you. Trust me.”

“You'll think I'm mad,” Niall whispered. 

“I won't judge you,” Zayn repeated, looking directly into Niall's eyes. 

Then, Niall timidly loosened his grip on his wrist and let Zayn see what the blonde was capable of. Zayn took Niall's hand and guided him to the sofa. They both sat down on the cushions, and Zayn gently pulled Niall's sleeve up. And what he saw was worst than everything. He wasn't ready for that. He didn't expected so much hatred. His heart sank. The sight made his stomach turn. How could Niall hate himself so much ? And above all, why ? 

The wounds were deep and were bleeding alarmingly. A carnage. It was a real carnage. Niall's arm was lacerated. Shreds of white skin lost in a pool of blood. How could you make yourself suffer ? How could you hate youself so much you cut yourself ?

Niall was so attractive, how couldn't he see that ?!

Zayn cleaned the cuts and bandaged them as gently as possible. Niall needed to go to the emergency room. Some cuts were so deep they should have been stitched up by a doctor. But he knew Niall would refuse to hospital. 

Zayn was overtaken by the situation. He wasn't able to handle this. He couldn't get it. He needed Niall to talk to him. He wouldn't let him destroy himself. Ever. 

“How do you feel ?”

 _Empty. Humiliated. Tired. Bad. Alive._

“I'm fine.”

An answer practiced for long. An answer that everybody wanted to hear. But Zayn wanted the truth. Not this pack of lies Niall had said to everyone for so many years. 

“You literally lacerated your arm after simple errands, Niall. So you're not fine. You have to explain this. I don't want to force you, I don't want to worm it out of you. But I need to know, and you need someone you can count on. Let me be this someone. I can carry your burden with you, I'll be strong enough for the both of us, I promise...”

Painful tears stung in Niall's eyes. The blonde was struggling to contain them. Zayn was destroying his wall, brick after brick. He was changing his world, stone after stone. 

“Let me know your dark side, your mistakes, your past, your worries. Let me know you, Niall. I won't let anyone hurt you. And I won't let you hurt yourself. Please. Talk to me.”

Niall shook his head. He couldn't. 

“You wouldn't understand.”

“So explain.”

Niall hove a deep breath. How could he explain his addiction to self-harm ? How could he explain he was addictive to this pain even though he didn't like it ? He didn't like hurting himself. But he needed it. It was his only solution.

“Cutting myself... it's like a way to distract my mind...”

Zayn couldn't help but wince. Did self-harm entertain him ?

“It's like the assistant of the magician in a show. When you look at her, you only see her. Not the rest. It's like that when I hurt myself. When my thoughts are too dark, I cut myself. It's a diversion. I only think about the physical pain, and the moral pain is more bearable. It's like...a way to stabilize things. And at the time, when I attended highschool, it's...like the only way I had to stay alive. I couldn't stand my life... It was a solution. My solution.”

Zayn's heart was beating hard as he thought about that blond kid so hurt that he ended up self-harming. 

“And gradually, it became a habit. Then a vital need. It relieves me so much that I don't think about anything else. My head's finally cleared out. It's calm. Peaceful. And I like this feeling. But...”

Niall stopped, and his breath caught in his throat. Zayn combed a hand through his blond hair. It was a way to encourage him to go on. He was here. No matter what Niall would say, he would stay. 

“Then, I'm overwhelmed with dark thoughts again. And I feel almost...satisfied. Almost proud of myself. It's like...it's like I deserved it. And it's never enough, the more time goes by, the more I need to hurt myself, the deeper I need my cuts to be, the more painful I need it to be...it's never enough...ever.....ever....”

Like a drug. Zayn was the best person to know how drug effects felt like. He looked down at Niall's forearm, scattered with cuts. 

“You feel like it's not enough ? Do you need to do it again Niall ?

Niall bit his lip as he felt his eyes welling with tears. Zayn was so gentle with him. And Niall was so weak. In spite of the shooting pain and the damning shame, he still needed to hurt himself again and again. Because anyway, it was all he deserved. So he nodded his head. Pitifully. 

“Where Niall ? Where do you want to cut yourself ?”

There was not place anymore on his arm, Zayn thought. Where did he need to self-harm ? He was already so damaged. Niall's eyes filled with tears widened. 

“I...my collarbone....”

His answer made Zayn's hair stand on end. He didn't show anything though. He just took the black felt pen which was on the coffee table and took off the cap. Niall confusedly stared at him.

“Trust me.”

Zayn delicately pulled down the collar of Niall's oversized jumper, baring his frail white shoulder and his collarbone. He put the tip of the felt pen on Niall's pale skin and started to draw tenderly and diligently. Niall patiently waited until his friend finished his work. Then, he contorted himself to see what Zayn had drawn on his collarbone. His eyes locked on the drawing of a small black butterfly. A simple butterfly, without any embellishment. A toddler could have drawn it. Why ?

“A butterfly ?” Niall asked, lost. 

“It's not just a butterfly, Niall. I am this butterfly, someone who cares about you, who worries about, who likes you just as you are. You can't erase this butterfly, you have to wait for him to go away. To fly away. If you cut yourself, you kill the butterfly. If you resist, you set it free.”

Zayn placed the felt pen in Niall's hand.

“I prefer to see your arms covered with butterflies than covered with those scars. Do it for me, Niall. If you want to hurt yourself, draw this butterfly and give it my name.”

Niall choked on his breath. It was so sweet, and unexpected, and it touched him so deeply... No one ever offered him another solution. And even if it was a little naive, it was still a solution. 

A beautiful solution.

His cheeks now soaked with teeth, Niall sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve. He looked like so much a small abandoned child that Zayn's heart clenched. What had pushed Niall to such a level of self-destruction ? He still didn't know how has Niall come to hurt himself. 

“Are you ready to let me in, Niall ?”

Ready to let me in your life. Zayn's offer was tempting. Set himself free. Finally. He had kept so many things inside these last years it was inhuman. All these doubts that ate his guts away, all these memories that made him sick, this solitude that had pushed him over the edge. He wanted to get over this resentment, this hatred, this rage, this aversion.

Maybe it was time to open himself a little. Not necessarily to the rest of the world, because his story was only his business. But Zayn had the right to know. He was the man he shared the apartment with. Maybe it was time for him to share more than this apartment. 

Niall wiped his puffed eyes looked into Zayn's eyes. And Zayn knew that the blonde was about to reveal the worst part of his life, the darkest part of himself. He wrapped comforting arms around Niall and pulled him into his chest. 

“You can cry whenever you need to. I'm here.”

And, his voice wavering, Niall started telling his story, as Zayn held his puny body and carved a tender hand through his hair blond locks. Niall explained that everything began to his local secondary school. But even before, he was not the little boy sociable and appreciated he would have liked to be. He was that chubby blond kid with a strange accent who used to stay alone at the back of the playground, wainting for the bell to ring to go back to class. He was even retreated into silence between 5 and 8. The doctor was categorical, he would talk again once he was ready. 

Then came the start of the secondary school. A catastrophe. The foolish age. The age of the unjustified insults, easy criticism and wickedness. That's where he started having complexes. He was called little fatty and mistake of nature everyday. His classmates kept repeating that he was not attractive at all. And naturally, he had ended up believing them...

In Year 10, he discovered self-harm. At the time, it was not as bad as it was today. Just scratches with a compass. It relieved him a little. 

He really started going through hell in high school. There, some people started getting physical with him. They would hit him, belittle him and threaten him. Niall was only a toy to them. The entertainment of kids who didn't understand they were slowly taking out a life. 

Zayn shuddered when Niall mentioned all the bruises he used to have on his body. How could someone dare to wreck such an angel ?

He felt nauseous when Niall mentioned the bridge he would go to almost every night. Zayn clenched his fists when the blonde talked about his bullies. Zayn would kill them without any hesitation. He would be caâble of it. At the time, Niall had begun to cut himself more seriously, looking for pain to exorcise a too unbearable grief. 

So young and already to tired of living. 

Zayn finalled stopped talking, but Zayn felt like the most important part of the story had been omitted. Niall was so withdrawn. There must have been something traumatic. And

Zayn wanted to know. Not out of some perverse curiosity, but just because Niall needed to say it to forget, to get better and to move on. 

“What happened then, Niall ?” Zayn asked cautiously. 

“I quitted school,” Niall curtly answered.

His voice was cold and menacing. He didn't want to tell more. But Zayn was stubborn. 

“Why ?”

“Because they went too far.”

Zayn was facing a wall. His fingers delicately brushed against Niall's bandages. He wanted Niall to understand that he could trust him. That he would stay by his side. 

“Z-Zayn ?”

“Oui ?”

“I...I-I...drop it, it's nothing. I'm ridiculous.”

Zayn clucked his tongue.

“Don't run yourself down. And talk to me.”

Talking with Niall was complicated process. Niall was so insecure that he doubted of his own opinions, his own choices and his own actions. Zayn needed to tread carefully with him. He needed to be persuasive and authoritarian, but also and mostly calm and gentle to coax Niall into talking to him. 

Niall lifted his red eyes towards Zayn. He felt weak, as if he was a clumsy high wire who was walking bare foot on a razor blade. 

“Tell me you're not only a passerby.”

Zayn didn't need any more explanations. Niall needed to be reassured. He didn't want to open up to somebody who would disappear from his like the next month. 

“No, I'm not a passerby. I will stay as long as you want me to. We are both tormented souls. And I don't say that everything will always be easy... But damn ! No one ever made me felt so important. So alive. I'm ready to be here for you. This is how it works, isn't it ? I'm such a loser for this kind of things, friendship and all... You're the first one, Niall.”

And his last sentence meant so much...

Niall was the first person who had paid attention to Zayn. He was the first one who hadn't given up with Zayn's addiction. The first one who had crossed his own limits only to appease Zayn. The first one Zayn was ready to fight for. The first one who aroused such strange feelings in Zayn. The first one Zayn trusted in. The first one Zayn knew he wouldn't leave. His first friend. 

Niall was the first one, quite simply. The first important person in Zayn's life.

Zayn awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. He bit his lip, worried. Maybe was it too much ? He didn't want to scare Niall away. He let out a nervous laugh. 

“I feel lie a midinette. I usually don't do sappy. So if you could say something,i t would be good...”

“They sent me to the hospital,” Niall blurted out, his eyes dull, remembering that moment when he almost kicked the bucket.


End file.
